


Lucifer's Seven Sins

by ShroudedSilhouette



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:55:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26085295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShroudedSilhouette/pseuds/ShroudedSilhouette
Summary: Lucifer, the ultimate sinner, in some ways, the first ever, but never the last commits all seven sins in less than seven seconds as he battles his own desire to gain the two women he loves the most; Trixie + Chloe.
Relationships: Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Trixie Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	Lucifer's Seven Sins

Lucifer had met many a friend and many a foe over the centuries of his fall, his climb and his not so real demise. Many had taught him lessons he would always remember and they would always forget, because they always did, didn't they? 

Forget that was. 

Walked into rooms with an idea in mind only to leave it without a slight reminder of what they sought, had spawns and developed baby brain, got old and turned young, frail and oh so bloody forgetful. 

And he couldn't help but call them lucky, for a Devil like he would never have the ability to forget all he wished not to remember. Gandhi told him in 1929 to hate the sin, not the sinner, but here he was pleading ignorance and despising the humans for what they could lose when in the game of memories he always won.

Even if every win seemed like a richly dressed up loss because wasn't it true that every rise was indeed a fall?

Pinching the brim of his nose, he threw a hand through the oil lathered abyss that sat above his head and sighed at the sound of footsteps, "We're closed".

"I didn't believe it, not at first" the slighty familiar voice whispered in muffles through fingers that were always so pudgy and dirty and always staining his most expensive suit. 

Turning fast, Lucifer almost teetered off the stool, lost his balance and landed on his ass. Brows furrowing, he dropped the glass "Beatrice?" 

"Lucifer" she responds in the same tone of voice. And she believes it now, the Devil does exist and she loved him once, loves him still.

When her hand raises, he flinches, not because she will taint the suit he hasn't scrubbed since, he flinches because he wants to return to smudges of chocolate cake and icing stuck to his lapel, his collar and his undercoat and it is that desire he will never speak aloud when his reflection asks him what it is he desires the most.

A giggle escapes her lips, showing off pearly whites and full grown teeth he's shocked she managed with her love of the sweeter things in life. 

Looking up into the emptiness within caramel orbs, her smile is sad. "How long has it been?" 

"Thirty years" seven months and ten days, but that part is his burden to recall and never hers. 

Without really thinking, simply because she doesn't really have to when she's around him, her arms are around his waist in a hug so tight she almost hopes it glues all what's broken back together. She is used to his body stiff within her hold, his arms up in the air as if waving for help, but she is not used to his eyes shut, nose in her hair and arms holding her as tight as she holds him, but that's exactly what he does.

She almost giggles then, it only took him thirty years, that's definitely an improvement, one she wasn't sure she'd live to see, one she wasn't sure he would, even if he was destined to be here forever. Pulling away, she watches the mask fall down over his face that shutters away the sunlight dancing on his pale skin. "Mum's going to hell" she speaks nonchalantly.

Gripping her shoulders, he growls out; "Don't ever say such a thing, spawn, hell is not a place for your mother, for my-" he falls silent.

"For your Detective?" Trixie raises a brow. 

"Except she isn't my Detective anymore" his shoulders slump. He wants to ask how she is, if her memory of him is as raw as his memory is of her, but he won't, what would he gain but another loss if he did? 

Pushing her body onto the ledge, her legs swing back and forth. "Guilt drives you to hell and keeps you there, mum feels guilty".

"Guilty?" Lucifer swirled on his heel, "What on earth for?" It is then that he sees her, really sees her. Her pointed glare is the spitting image of the one the Detective would often bestow on him in annoyance, the kindness beneath a stormy exterior lightens her eyes to a tinge of the ocean he drowned in when he fell in love with a woman who's moral compass led her toward good but also to him. Dropping his head, he exhales painfully at the sudden return of memories no amount of holy water could ever wash away, there was no denying that Beatrice was hers, that in a way Beatrice **was** her.

Trixie wonders why he hasn't asked her how she knows what hell is like, or how her mum believes in it now, but then again she's wondered a lot and wandered around too and she's learnt along the way that the eighth wonder of the world is him; the dark wanderer who wandered his way into their heart. "Does it matter? We aren't your problem anymore, we never were" it hurts to say it, she assumes it hurts to hear it too. When she jumps down, she swears she spots a tear glistening in his stubble, but she knows better than to commit to a daliance with wishful thinking and that's just what this is.

Wishful thinking that he will come home, come back to them. 

He wants to stop her, wants to commit gluttony and feast upon the love they had to offer him once upon a time, he lusts for it, always did, always has, but he always was a greedy man, especially when it came to her, especially when it came to them. He supposes it best to sin like a sloth, use laziness as a blanket to cover the need to fight for them again, if he lies and says he can't be bothered then maybe he'll believe it to be true. But wrath overtakes, makes him angry, paints the world in red because it's so damn hot in this hellhole without her and he's tired of the envy surging through his veins when he sees men and women, men and men, women and women and happy families alike, but none of the six sins matter, only the seventh does, because he has too much pride to ever admit that he wants to turn back time and have them back. 

Afterall, Lucifer was the first sinner and when has a leopard ever changed its spots?

Never in all their years. 

"Goodbye, Lucifer".

He cringes. He'd always hated that word, it was one of his Dad's sick jokes. What was so good about saying bye anyway? There wasn't ever any good in goodbye, Collins Dictionary be damned. There was only bad, the baddest of them all- him, he knew byes like he knew lies, he was a hi sayer, truth teller, desire finder and a Detective lover and it was he who rewound the clock on a hell loop so their final bye-bye to the world could be repeated.

Again and again and again. 

That was how he knew there was no good in goodbye because he'd made it that way, because he'd fell that way. 

And he'd be damned if he let the Detective fall that way too. 


End file.
